Postcards
by forbiddentransmutations
Summary: Maka's letters from her mother aren't what they crack up to be, and sometimes the truth is better left unsaid. Maka and Spirit father/daughter bonding one-shot


**Title:** Postcards

**Author's Note: **A wild Soul Eater fic appears. This was originally sparked from a little headcanon of mine, which should become apparent as you read along. I wrote this before bed (I write all my fics before bed pfft) so excuse the lack of edge and anticipation or emotion. I decided to write a little father and daughter fic because while it's a very sensitive subject for me, I just adore Spirit in every way.

Maka loved it when she got mail from her mother. It was the biggest treat to have Soul check the mail and coming back inside with a postcard from a part of the world. It was always a surprise to where her mother was traveling, and it was completely unpredictable. She would literally be down in Egypt one month and up in Russia the next!  
Maka's mother was the only one of her parents she had respect for. She hated her father. She hated him for not only cheating on her mother, but for continuing his bad habits like an unstoppable sex machine. She hated it. He was constantly out of control, and it was always too late for him to apologize. She felt it was almost like a suck up, to try and win back her affection. She wouldn't give in, her father deserved no respect from her. At every attempt to make things right, he only made it worse. He was honestly the worst father anyone could have- at least in Maka's opinion.  
Maka was handed the postcard and eagerly looked at the front of it, which displayed a colourful photograph of the Eiffel Tower, fireworks exploding behind it in a series of bright and magnificant colours. Maka's smile broadened, her soul lifting. "I got another letter from Mama!" Maka cooed as Soul sat down by her side, hands in pockets. "Yeah, where is she now?"  
"She's in Paris, I think," Maka admired the photograph, before flipping it around to read it. There was always only a little message, and Maka's name and address, but never a return one. She never thought anything of it, as she knew her mother was almost always on the move, and more than likely trying to conceal her location from her good-for-nothing ex husband.

_Dear my Beautiful Maka,_  
_I hope you're doing well in school and training well. Sending my love to you all the way from Paris! Lots of love, your Mama"_

Maka placed the postcard at her chest, pressing on it a little. It almost felt as though her mother was closer by doing this.  
"Your mother sounds incredible, Maka," Blair trotted on by, her stomach dragging along the ground. She had obviously consumed too many fish. Maka nodded in agreement. "My mother IS amazing," she corrected, smiling. "It would be nice for her to visit here soon, though."

-  
Soul and Maka had arrived half an hour early to school, being the only two students there. They didn't mind though, it would have been better to have come early than much later. They made their way down the staircase on the far end of the hallway, off to see Crona, who would more than likely still be asleep or huddled in his corner with a pillow and Ragnarok slapping at his head.  
Maka still had the postcard held close to her. She always treasured the letters her mother sent her, as they were the only contact she had. Soul waddled beside her, hands still tucked into his pockets. After heading down to the basement floor of the school, they made their way through the maze-like hallways until they got to Crona's room.  
"Crona! Can we come in?" Maka called as she knocked. There was a confused whimper and hum. "W-Who's there?" The fragile little boy called back in a sleepy voice. Maka decided to enter, as Crona wouldn't mind after he saw who it was. Soul standing right behind her, she opened the door to see Crona peeking out from under the covers, eyes low and tired-looking. He had drooled all over his pillow, looking rather disrupted.  
"Oh, sorry. Did we wake you up?"  
Crona gave a tired nod. "Ragnarok kept me up all night, I only fell asleep an hour ago," he whined to himself a little, before flopping right back into the pillow. Not giving the poor boy a break, Ragnarok sprouted out of Crona's back and peeked out from under the covers too, squeaking.  
"What do you think you're doing you little brat?" The demon sword snapped, poking at Crona's skull. "Maka woke me up and now I'm trying to get back to sleep!" He explained, burying his head into the pillow.  
"Well now it's time to hurt you some more!"  
Maka and Soul watched as the boy was attacked by his blood.  
"I think it's time we leave," Soul whispered, walking backwards as discretely as possible.  
"Sorry to bother you, you can come out whenever you like!" Maka apologized nervously before closing the door.  
They headed back up to the main part of the school, where some students began to arrive. Ox and his weapon, Harvar were the next pair that they saw. "Yo!" Soul waved at Harvar while Maka and Ox exchanged glares.  
The two greeted more and more of the passing students, until it was time to start heading off to class. Stein would be eagerly awaiting them. He was more than likely going to dissect some innocent creature.  
Unfortunately for Maka, instead of having a pleasent morning, she was disturbed by her father passing by. She lowered her head, in an attempt to ignore him. However, Spirit could point out Maka in a crowd like a hawk eyeing out the weakest morsel in a group of prey.  
"Maka!" Spirit leapt for his daughter, who continued on walking, trying her best to ignore the crazy man. Spirit fell to the ground in a comical fashion, before jumping back up and walking alongside his daughter. "Have you gotten any more postcards from your mother yet?" He asked eagerly.  
"Yes," she replied flatly, avoiding eye contact. "And where she is is none of your business!" she added before storming off, Soul jogging after her. Spirit gave a long frown. "Ah, Maka," he sighed to himself. "If only you knew what's going on."

Other than the unpleasent interaction with her father, Maka had an overall good day. She would always look down at her letter and smile broadly. Her mother was enough to make her smile. She showed off the new postcard to her friends, who admired the photograph if anything. Maka didn't care what the others thought, she only got these post cards once a month, sometimes even less, and they were something to be appreciated.  
Maka had so much respect for her mother, and failed to see that she had, in a way, left her just like her father did. Spirit left the family while her mother left her. Maka never really saw it that way, and mainly vented her anger out of the divorce on her father. It was just as well, because he would still be with them if it wasn't for him cheating. Maka had no idea how much she really meant to her father, and he would do anything to protect her. Her happiness was all he wanted, and he would go to many lengths to give her what she wanted, in some ways she couldn't even imagine.

Little A plus student, Maka Albarn was walking down the hall by herself a week later, books and postcard in arms, skipping merrily towards the exit. Her pigtails danced on both sides of her head and her skirt flew up and down with her cloak. She was ready to head home after a long day of studying. If she hadn't slowed a little, she would have definitely not heard Spirit and Professor Stein talking in a room branching off the hallway.  
"She's going to find out sooner or later," Stein took a sip of his tea, adjusting the bolt in his head. Spirit sighed, lowering his head, his red hair hanging over his face. "I don't want her to find out..but she's a smart girl, and she'll catch on eventually."  
Both curious and confused, Maka stopped in her tracks, sliding over to the wall and shifting a little until she had her ear pressed against the door, trying to comprehend the words that were spoken.  
"Spirit, you give her too little credit," Stein said with a laugh in his tone, almost in a teasing way. He adjusted his bolt once again, puffing his cigarette. Spirit couldn't bare to look up.  
"She loved her mother so much. She trusted her so much, even after the divorce. I couldn't bare to see what she'll do after she found out the truth," Spirit was shaking all over, voice cracking and wobbly.  
Stein gave a broad smirk.  
"I'm sure you'll be able to see her reaction now."  
Maka was furious, she kicked open the door, almost sending it off its hinges, eyes alive with anger. She wanted answers. Now.  
"What truth? What's this thing about Mama that I don't know about?!" She boomed, Stein silently toying with his bolt. Spirit perked up, eyes wide with shock. Now wasn't the time to bring this up, not for poor little Maka. Stein kept his smile. If it wasn't obvious enough already, he had known that Maka was listening in. All in the mind of a madman.  
"M-Maka, I didn't know," Spirit stood up, walking backwards against the wall. Maka walked up to him threateningly, ready to beat the crap out of him. "What's happened to Mama? What's this you don't want me to know about?!" She pushed her face closer to his, noses touching. Spirit ran out of options. Bottom lip quivering and sweat dripping from his forehead, he uttered the words he never wanted Maka to hear.  
"Your mother's dead, Maka."  
The young girl stared at the man for a moment, face loosening. She pulled away a little, heart and soul sinking. She helplessly dropped to the ground, barely able to keep herself upright. "What did you say?" She croaked, tears swelling in her eyes. Spirit was afraid to continue. He gave a little sigh. "Your mother...she died."  
Maka could not register such words. She didn't know if she was more upset about the news or the fact that her father would lie about such a thing. Such words were unbelievable. Mother could not die. Mothers cannot die. They weren't like ordinary people, at least to the child anyway. To Maka, her mother was like a superhuman who was immune to death, and the thought of her reaching her end was ludacris.  
The tears came down hard. "She's...she's NOT dead, Papa. You're lying!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, curling into a ball, her books dropped behind her. She sobbed loudly. "Stop lying, Papa! You're just full of lies!"  
By now, she wasn't sure whether she was in denial or angry at the fact that her father lied. Whatever the reason, she was hysterical. The more she thought, the more apparent the news seemed, and the more she registered it, the more hysterical she became. Neither Stein or Spirit dared to approach her, and simply let her cry out as much as she could.  
After a long 15 minutes of crying, she finally settled down, wiping at her hot and swollen face which was stained with salty tears. "Why, Papa? Why would Mama die?" She choked, sitting upright on the couch, unable to look at her father directly. Spirit sighed, a line of tears rolling down his own eyes. "These things just happen, Maka," was all he managed to say. Stein had fixed her a tea to relax her with. Through sips, she managed a few more questions. "When did she die?"  
Spirit gave a long exhale.  
"Your mother's been dead for over a year now."  
Maka was unable to connect a few points, and unable to point out the flaws in it all, and all she managed to ask was, "Why didn't you tell me?"  
Ther was no reply for five minutes. She had drank half of her tea by the time Spirit spoke again.  
"I just wanted what's best for you, Maka."  
With that, Maka slowly stood up, collecting her books, which Stein laid out on the coffee table, and headed on out. She silently walked home, under the now cackling moon.  
Soul was busy cooking dinner by the time Maka entered the apartment, slumping in her steps. She was too exhausted to do anything, even eat. She had lost her appetite anyway. "Hey, what's up?" Soul mixed the vegetables in with the noodles in the pan as he called for his meister. Maka didn't reply. Soul, concerned, turned the stove to low and ran over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "What's the matter?" He asked, eyes filled with concern. Maka had run out of tears, it was likely she wasn't going to cry again tonight. She had just no energy left, not even to feel sad. It was a lot of energy to feel sadness, and it was even more to cry it all out.  
"My mother died."  
Soul released grip of her shoudler, unable to reply. She rocked into her room before flopping onto the bed, holding her pillow close. She didn't speak a word the rest of the night.

Soul didn't bother in waking her up the next day, nor did he try and convince her to go to school. Even Blair decided to avoid trying to cheer her up with her typical antics. Maka would not respond to anything anyway.  
It took her two days before she emerged from her room, looking slightly thinner and extremely tired and worn out. It was possible she hadn't slept for those two days. "Soul...could you make me some breakfast?" She asked weakly, holding her postcard close to her chest. Soul couldn't bare to see her in this sorry state. He quickly nodded and set to work.  
During breakfast, she spoke again. She took a tiny mouthful of her pancake. "Did you know that she died over a year ago?" She said flatly.  
Soul stopped in eating his meal. He thought about it for a minute but said nothing. She had already taken in so much, it was obvious she couldn't deal with anything more. He felt conflicted whether he should bring it up or not.  
He decided to take the risk.  
"Maka?"  
The girl barely looked up, taking another bite of her pancake. She had been in hiding for two days now, and couldn't do so any longer. She needed to get back to school and get on with her life, no matter how much it pained her. Better yet, she could go see her father, who she actually wanted to talk to for once.  
"Maka...it makes you wonder...if your mother was dead-"  
Soul said the wrong thing. Maka stood up and headed towards the bathroom before he could finish. "-who wrote you the...post..cards...?" Soul slid down his seat, regretting his words.

By the time Maka got out of the shower, Soul had already headed off to school. She yawned, extremely tired from the little to no sleep she had over the passed couple of days. Blair was still fast asleep on the loungeroom couch, purring and swaying her tail. It was a perfect time to leave without explaination. She headed down the stairs, books and postcard in hand. This was the last postcard she'd ever receive from her mother. It was the last postcard before she died.  
Suddenly, Maka stopped in her tracks, finally piecing together the puzzle. She looked down at the card, flipped it over and checked the date. It was only dated back 3 weeks ago. Spirit said her mother had been dead for over a year, but this was dated not a month ago. Desperate for answers, Maka burst into a sprint, heading over to her father's new apartment.  
Spirit was still asleep, stirring uneasily. His daughter had been absent two days running, and it was extremely abnormal for such a top student. He had finally driven off to sleep, and enjoyed every moment of it.  
It was quickly disturbed by a knock at the door. Lazily, he slipped out of the bed and waddled on the front of the apartment, letting the unknown guest in.  
"Who wrote this?!" Maka stormed in, standing in front of her father. Spirit was still half asleep, unable to focus on the situation. "Wha-what?"  
"This postcard was dated back 3 weeks ago! You told me that Mama had died over a year ago! Explain this to me! Am I going crazy? Or is someone sending me fake letters from my mother to conceal her death from me?!" She threw the questions out at her father, who had become aware of what was going on. He sighed. "Maka, calm down...I'll explain everything."  
Still wound up, she sat down on the couch opposite Spirit, who twiddled his fingers anxiously. School would be starting in about an hour, so the pair didn't have much time.  
"Maka..."  
"No."  
Spirit looked up.  
Maka looked dead serious.  
"Don't try and weasel your way out of this. No lies. No sugar-coating. I want the truth. What happened to Mum and why am I still receiving 'her' letters?"  
Spirit pushed his hair back, biting his bottom lip. He took a deep breath, thinking of how to begin the story.  
"Your mother and I had been divorced for 5 months before her death. After 4 months she had made it official, and signed all the papers, but we had been split before that. She was going to fight for custordy over you, but she decided to visit her mother in the North of Asia for a holiday of sorts. Unfortunately, once she had gotten there, she had a heart attack. After she sent her first postcard, she had died. No one knows how such a healthy young woman could have died of such a thing. To this day, they still don't know," Spirit explained, Maka holding onto her knees, refraining from crying.  
Spirit continued his story.  
"I was the one who decided to keep this all from you, as you had so much more on your mind. Not only did you have the exams, but we had the Kishin awaken, and all the madness covering the world, I felt you couldn't handle any more despair, especially something as big as your mother passing."  
Maka nodded with the words, finally understanding the story a little more. There was a silence.  
"It still doesn't explain the postcards I kept receiving. Who on earth would try to keep this from me so much that they'll go as far to sending me fake letters evey mo-"  
It took Maka a little longer than expected to fully understand everything. She shot a look at Spirit, who looked broken and hurt.  
"Papa?"  
He perked up. _She hasn't called me Papa for a long time now._  
Her eyes lit up, before having tears forming in them. "Y-you wrote the postcards, didn't you, Papa?"  
There was another long silence. The entire world seemed to have paused. Spirit gave a weak and slight nod. By this time, Maka had tears streaming down her face for the first time in days. She had found the strength to cry again.  
"But why?"  
This time, it was Spirit who broke down. He threw his head forward, his crimson hair covering his hot and slobbering face.  
"Because...Because your happiness means more to me than anything!"  
Without a second thought, Maka jumped up and lept at her father, who had his open arms. She nuzzled in his chest, sobbing. "Papa..."  
They both shared a hug, sniffling and crying.  
"Mama's gone, Maka. She's gone, but I'll always be here for you," Spirit said in the most comforting tone he could. Maka buried her head deep into his chest, crying into it.  
"I'm sorry for ever doubting you, Papa."

The tender moment they shared would always remain a secret, and not all scores were settled between the two. Maka was still conflicted over what Spirit had done with the postcards. Would Mama have liked that? It was obvious she didn't want Spirit in her daughter's life, but it was ultimately _for_ Maka's happiness, and that hopefully would be a good enough reason to do such a thing.  
Spirit had done the most a struggling father _could_ do, and that was to give her daughter the happiness she wanted and deserved. He would never dream of intentionally hurting her, even though he had indirectly done so multiple times. Their relationship may have not mended over one little bonding time, but it had certainly strengthened greatly.  
Spirit continued to send his daughter postcards under her mother's name, becuase, while she now knew the truth, every time she got one, she couldn't help but smile broadly. She would silently thank her father for always looking out for her, even after all this time, and even after all the times she avoided and bad-mouthed him. While the letter was from her father, she could almost feel her mother sending such love to her.  
As time went on, they developed the father and daughter relationship Spirit had always hoped for. She was happy to hang out with him, and wasn't ashamed to admit that she was his daughter.  
Spirit may have been a man with problems, and may not not have been the best person, but he was honestly the best father anyone could have- at least in Maka's opinion.


End file.
